sirenspull | Entries tagged with c: tyrell

Sooo...

[ It's just Maria again, panning the NV towards her face with slightly less amateurish skill than before. At least she's not plugging at all the buttons this time. By the looks of it, she's sitting in some slightly-run-down cafe somewhere, and the other patrons visible in the background are shooting her dirty looks for her loud public call; naturally, she seems absolutely unaware of them, sighing a little theatrically and running a hand through her wavy brown hair. ]

I've been here for more than a month now! Stuck in Canada for a whole month, yep... And my best friend ain't here, and my boss ain't either, and it's a huuuge drag, you know? 'Cause I don't have anybody smart to ask about this stuff! Well, if they were here, I wouldn't even have this question, but that's not the point, amigos! I'm asking you all because I can't ask Tick or Mr. Luck!

[ a pout. Her usual sunny self might not be immediately visible, but it is immediately visible that she's more frustrated and bored than actually upset. ]

So... So say you used to just be a sort of freelancing girl, right, amigos? You were used to taking jobs wherever you could! But then, all of a sudden, you found this reeeally cool amigo, so you pledged your loyalty to him instead! And it was like that for a year, where you only worked for the one cool guy! But all of a sudden you get teleported to Canada and your super cool boss is gone and you need a job!! That's awful, right? I mean, I need money, but is it really okay to take jobs when I'm supposed to just be working for this one guy? [ her hands clap onto the table, shaking the video feed a little bit. ]

It's not like I want to quit working with Mr. Keith!! No way! It's just that everything's expensive in 2012, amigos! And I don't wanna wash dishes! It's driving me and Murasamia crazy, totally crazy!! What should I do?

rehashes

Okay.

[ surprise, camera's coming on. and the thing it's showing isn't Dave, it's bagged milk. well, and also maybe Dave's hands, holding it up, but whatever. ]

I've tried to avoid this shit since I got here, but I can't do it anymore. I need someone to explain this shit to me right stat pronto.

[ he drops the package onto the table - not hard enough to break it, but enough to make a pretty loud noise. ]

How the fuck am I supposed to do something with this. What is even the point of this? What is so hard about pulling some cow tits and sticking it in a bottle? Are Canadians just incapable of handling cow mammaries, is that what this is all about? Some under-handed ploy to integrate fake milk in a bag instead of good ol' fashioned bovine lactation?

[ pause. ]

No, you know what, I don't even give a shit why they're doing it. Canada is dumb and that's all there is to say on the matter. The point is, I have a bowl of Cookie Crisp here and no goddamn milk to eat it with, and that is a serious problem. And I can't just go get a carton of regular milk because of reasons, okay, so don't even suggest it. Just explain to me what the fuck I'm supposed to do with bagged milk.

paterelohim

[The NV is spinning in the air, the image incredibly confused before the thing hitting the edge of a couch and landing at an odd angle. The video shows legs- feet, a pair of sock-clad feet vanishing into jeans and another pair with shoes on, gathered around what looks like a coffee table, though the table itself is out of the frame.

After a moment something drops into the frame from above: a slender, lifeless hand, obviously dangling off the table above, with blood running down the smooth skin. There's a sob off-screen and someone pulls it away again.

The sound is muffled and terrible quality, but some things can be heard.]

Stop it goddamn it just stop- haven't you done enough? STOP IT.

[Chuck's voice, sounding panicked and desperate. Someone kicks the NV and the sound muffles- a riot of noise, of yelling, and the picture starts flashing, distorting, static and terrible noisy feedback- and then yelling that crescendos into a scream. It's garbled but the NV picks up just a little-]

-THE FUCK OUT NOW-

[Before it distorts again and goes dead.]

[Text post, about 30 minutes later.]

Sorry about that. It's fine. It's taken care of. Okay, that's a lie. Not that it's anyone's business. Someone from Purgatory cover my shift tomorrow. And the next day.

[ OOC: This is open to action to anyone at the HoA. Chuck's in one of the common areas, sitting like a trauma patient on a couch next to a bloody coffee table. Fred is dead, was killed by Angelus, but her body's already vanished by the time of the text post.

The static and feedback was Chuck's grip on His powers kind of slipping a lot and Him accidentally making lights explode.]

harriedosborn

So.

[ He's speaking a little slowly, the bitterness properly enunciated in the slight tipsy slur to his voice. ]

… You know. I wasn't going to think anything of it, I have way better things to be working on and thinking about, but the more I think about it the more it's really burning me up. I mean, I really wasn't going to think anything of it but then--

[ He clicks his tongue and pauses to take another sip of whatever he's drinking. ]

I think that's really great. Really. My dad never remembered my birthday and he always blamed it on the leap year, but -- but my birthday's the twenty-eighth, that's just bullshit, right? I -- I, um -- it's so stupid, I don't even know if they remember either because I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to be dead--

[ There's a clink as something breaks, and apparently spills as well. ]

Oopsie. What was I saying? Oh -- no, the worst part is I forgot about my birthday too! [ He laughs a little, quiet and forced and slightly whimpery. ] Usually Liz says it to me in the morning, but…

'm not sure what I'm trying to say actually. I'm just giving myself a headache.

where_the_hearth_is

Greetings, Siren's Port.

I am seeking a mobile, carbon-based volunteer to assist my participation in our city's Homebaked Bread Society. Cooking expertise not required.

Your duties would be:
- to visit me at [the House's address, on the beach where Sectors 4, 7, and the sea intersect], pick up an insulated container of fresh bread, and deliver it to the Society's meetings.
- to serve my bread to the rest of the society with charm and poise
- to taste the bread brought by other members and offer polite feedback as appropriate
- to send me a summary of the discussion (or record it to your NV if you prefer)
- to acquire the recipes of any other loaves of bread you particularly enjoyed, with commentary on what you found delicious

In exchange I will provide:
- freshly baked bread, including extra that you are not required to share with the Society
- homemade jam of your preference
- further compensation negotiable

Serious inquiries only, please. Comfort with talking machines preferred.

cheerhealer

[ The feed begins with a birds eye view of a small living room, laminated wooden flooring and very sparse furniture. In a corner is a stuffed manatee (one of two stuffed animals she had gotten for Christmas) laying on the bottom of a floor lamp. A young woman appears in the feed, hair thrown up in a casual ponytail. On the couch is a large pile of clothing.

She's humming something as she brings in a large load of laundry in a basket in her arms. Perhaps it's a familiar tune. She sets the basket on the ground and picks up a cardigan. ]

99 bottles of beer on the wall, 99 bottles of beer. [ She puts it onto the arm of the couch. ] Take one down, pass it around, 98 bottles of beer on the wall.

98 bottles of beer on the wall, 98 bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around, 97 bottles of beer on the wall. [ She slips a sweater over her shirt from the basket before going back to folding laundry. It's all kinds, really; athletic clothing, dresses, thongs, bras. ]

( ((not an ic cut)) )

68 bottles of beer on the wall, 68 bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around, 67 bottles of beer. [ She finally finishes with sorting her large load of laundry. She tosses the basket up to wherever the NV is currently situated, effectively clicking off the video. ]

slipperysoul

[ When the feed starts, it's with the heavy thump of a body dropping to the ground, covered partially by the shadows in a remote alley. But Angelus tilts his NV just so, so everyone can get a good look, because why the hell not? Might as well make a documentary of his exploits, right?

It's just a John Doe, but this John Doe is dead as a doornail, sucked dry, save for the blood accidentally spilled down the front of his shirt and making a ring around his neck. But that's enough of that, and Angelus is flipping his NV around and smirking for the audience. Because he sure does love a show.

For those who thought they were familiar with this face, this is no longer Angel. Not anything close.

This would be Angelus, who's already on the move once again and letting his NV hang at his side, because it's been awhile, and he's still hungry and the night is ever so.... young. He does have a thing for virgins after all.

But he's making sure everyone can hear him when he does actually speak up: ]

Boy, it's good to be back.

cowboycop

(( ooc: Forward-dated to about 7PM, action opportunity for housemates. ))

Got a question fer all y'all. You ever... wish you could change somethin'? Y'ever had one of those moments when you just... wish you could go back'n... fix it all?

[A pause, as he seems to tap his foot down. His spur jingles in time, so one can only assume.]

... though I figger that here, it'd be goin' forward an' fixin' it. Three years ago fer me, three years ahead fer Siren's Port, I reckon... [One could probably hear a faint sigh if they tried. This is hard for him to admit, even bring up again.] ... a man named Neil Marshall was killed. Man I loved like a brother, 'cause... he was my brother. An' no matter how long ago it's been, I keep wonderin'... maybe I coulda... done somethin' different. Maybe I coulda jus' stayed behind a bit longer. I dunno.

... so how do y'all keep it from gettin' to ya? Even I'll admit I ain't got a clue. Guess that's my real question I should be askin'. Jus' lemme know. I'll... I'll get back to ya.

[He tries to turn off the voice, but just before, in a quiet voice that was meant to be just for himself:]

Dammit, Marshall, keep it together...

student_of_impossibility

[ Tavi looks absolutely baffled today. For once, he's got a simple agenda on his mind. ]

Can anyone explain what a groundhog has to do with predicting spring? I don't think I follow that train of thought.

...And speaking of, do things like that whole day-repeating happen often? I'm glad it's over, but if it's likely to happen again I'd at least like to be more unsurprised.

I still don't understand how this place is supposed to make any sense.

cheerhealer

[ It's close to midnight. Claire is sitting on her bed, Mr. Muggles curled up on her lap and deep asleep. Her hair is shorter- much, much shorter. ]

Okay. You all can see this - [ She gestures up to her new hair. ] - right? A lot shorter.

[ The feed ends there, then comes back on ten minutes later, with her hair at its usual length. ]

Looks like today is February 2nd again. [ Annoyance is clear in her face. But she is a little glad; she didn't want to start off the new day with an awful haircut. ]

manipuleights

[ The feed clicks on to a close-up of a VERY happy troll girl. She grins, bearing her fangs and does her best to look adorable. ]

Joooooooohn~~~~ ♥

( CUT FOR TAILLESS WHIP SCORPION )

I found another one! Do you have any jars left? I think he'll look greeeeeeeeat on your nightstand! There's still room there, right? Don't tell me you've been putting silly things all over the place!

acemedium

[Oh, hey, Siren's Port. Today (or, well, that day that keeps repeating itself, but details) Maya is sitting at a desk, looking news reporter-esque and very serious. This is going to be a very serious feed]

Citizens of Siren's Port, we have a national crisis! Or... city-wise crisis! Port-crisis? ... You get the picture! Anyway, you know that moment when you did something and it feels like you've done it before but you don't remember when? That's called "Dijon View" [That"s "Déjà vu", Maya]

Well, that's what's happening! But worse! Every day is the same day, Thursday! It’s not even Friday! [How terrible. She's saying all this like it's brand new information.]

Anyway, it's obvious what it is! Time goons! The Evil Magistrate’s time goons! This totally happened on this one episode of the Steel Samurai—

[Suddenly, Diego’s cat steps on the NV, thankfully cutting out what otherwise might be a five minute long ramble on said Steel Samurai episode. When it clicks back on:]

--Okay, so what do we do?

1. Don’t panic!!! And don't get depressed and hurt yourself, either [Not to name names or anything] Everything will be okay! We just need to defeat the time goons!
2. Investigate anyone that looks goon-y thoroughly! Remember, time goons are sneaky and try to blend into society, so make sure you check them really closely! Except for Mr. Asch. He’s definitely not one, despite how he looks.
3. When you find a goon, give 'em a Samurai Chop! That'll stop them in their tracks.
4. Be sneaky around the locals! They don’t know about the time thingy, so they might get suspicious and think you’re a goon if you talk about how it’s not Thursday anymore!
5. If you find a time machine, chances are a vile agent has already used it to go back in time– oh wait, I’m thinking of the wrong thing.
6. Um, I don't have a six, but the list looks better like this.

Anyway, the point is! Stay calm! Don’t do crazy stuff! Once we beat all the time goons and stop the Evil Magistrate's devious plans, time will go back to normal and the Dijon View's gonna disappear too!

[Maya's about to click off the feed, but suddenly a final, profound thought comes to her:]

... And under no circumstances should anyone sing "Let's Do the Time Warp Again!"

cadaverdaddy

I have written the same identification tags for the same guests four times now. ^hehehe We have become so very acquainted with one another, I greet them every day it seems when we meet each other again in the hospital morgue.

Though it is curious. To die every day, to wake up and know what their day holds; would it be possible for someone to do something, either for themselves or for another, to alter the flow of events~? _hahahaha What do you think- what would you do?

Two more survived today than in days past. I wonder what is to become of them.

Let us see what tomorrow brings, shall we? ^heeeeeeeeee It is quite exciting.

ninthserenade

Hey, guys? I don't really mean to stir up any trouble or anything here, but the whole every-day-being-the-second thing, uh... There's some weird things going on besides that. I went into work just like normal this morning, yeah? I was sent out to get some donuts 'n coffee. That's totally normal, I'm okay with that--I mean I always grab myself something when I'm out anyways, but that's not what threw me off today. I'm out lookin' at it right now, but the, uh... Usual place I go to? Four Lard Lad's, the place just kind of. Changed. I don't mean interior decorating either--the whole entire building changed. It's round now and it's shaped like a giant donut.

_{[He pauses and turns his NV around to display the newly shaped building and it's entirety from across the street.]}

Has anything like this ever happened here before?

uberboned

[By the second Thursday, Gabriel has figured it all out... Okay, he's figured out it may be a time loop, because he's not an idiot and may have kicked this plot development in the seat of the pants several years back. Does he feel like contributing to the Helping Hands project? Nooope. He's pissy and knows certain parties are going to blame his life for this shit.

So from now until the end of the loop, every day at 7:30 AM, every NV is going to start playing "Heat of the Moment." Enjoy your Asia, Siren's Port.]

I know some of you- Sam- are gonna think to yourself, "this has gotta be Gabriel." Well. I'm here to tell you... you're wrong, but thanks for playing. And I hope you enjoy your long-distance dedication.

ex_chocoboing98

[Honking sounds in the background, the soft purr of an engine muffles most of them though.]

... What's the likelihood of an accident occurring at the same time two days in a row?

...

[Sighs, turns off the engine and mumbles:] I'm gonna be late again.

quadrifoliate

[ The camera's feed is focused on what looks like Clover's face, but it's a little out of focus and blurry-- until you realize it's actually a picture of Clover, and the NV pulls back enough to see that it's on some kind of ID whose print is too out of focus to read. Of course, those familiar with a Canadian driving license will know what it looks like. Clover's voice is unmistakably excited, and she's just as visibly trying to suppress that excitement as she pulls the ID away. ]

I got my driver's license yesterday. [ Freakin' finally, her expression and rolled eyes seem to say. ] You know what that means?

[ Grinning wider, now, she pumps a fist in the air. ]

I'm proud to announce that Funtom Toys and Sweets' delivery service is now in business! Now you can get Funtom's products delivered to you, wherever you are in Siren's Port. Delivery charges depend on the size of what you're getting delivered, but there's a flat rate. The delivery can be scheduled for any time between morning sirens to an hour before evening sirens, but you'll need to place it at least 12 hours in advance for a rush order and 24 hours for a regular one. You can make the order in-store, or call Funtom to place it.

[ She rattles off the number from memory, smoothing her hair back from her face, then takes a breath and grins broadly at the camera. ]

So come on and order something already! Gilbert's cakes taste great-- and Ciel got a sweet ride. [ Okay, so it's a thinly veiled excuse to go capering out in the delivery truck, but sue her for being excited, okay? ]

returntodarkness

It has come to my attention that I have been here for over a year. How fascinating that this world has not fallen to darkness in that time. This is something I perhaps need to remedy.

On the other hand, there are many academic pursuits I could follow here. I have also found an ideal feeding ground for myself, one that has a nigh unlimited supply of hearts. There are many things to consider when it comes to my future actions.

However, I've no doubt most of you should count yourselves fortunate. Were things the same as they were before my arrival here, this world would be dust.

[And that's all he wrote.]

youfartknocker

Uh, huh huh huh. I'm gonna be cool. Uh, huh huh huh. [ It's after sirens, and Butt-Head is leaning against a dirty wall in a dimly lit room with a good portion of his neck gone. He doesn't seem very affected by it, though- yet, anyway. ]

Hey, babies. Uh, huh huh- [ He winces, bringing a hand up to his neck. ] Sweet. Uh, huh huh huh.

I can, like, see everything clearly now. Uh, huh huh huh. That guy really was, like, a werewolf. Uh, huh huh huh. [ There's a soft roar (of his Onix, if anybody talked to him on his intro post and heard it) before the feed ends.

Also, good luck getting information out of him. And John Watson will be saving his sorry ass, but feel free to like ... bitch at him or something. He didn't learn his lesson back home about going to men in alleyways about getting turned into a supernatural being. At least he didn't get rabies this time. ]

ella_of_frell

[ The feed clicks on, where Ella is making her way down the stairs with Kyra trotting along behind her. Ella is carrying a basket of towels with her on her way to the den. Setting the NV down on the table so she can fold, the linen, she turned her attention to the NV with Kyra hopping up on the couch next to her. Spoiled wolfdog pup. ]

I think I've seen enough snow to last me a hunded lifetimes. At least things seem to be quieting down a little...sort of. [ She pauses at the sound of a knock, and Kyra lifts her head to bark. Ella leans forward a bit. ]

Kyra, shh! It's open! [ That's for the benefit of whoever just showed up. Folding the towel with a snap of movement, she set it aside. ]

I was lucky enough to not catch a cold from all of that, but my stepsister, not so much. Which reminds me, Kenzo, if you have time, could you come over and have a look at her? Her fever is pretty bad.

If I had a unicorn hair I could make her a soup, but...

[ MEH. Ah, and a sudden thought. ]

Purely hypothetically... if someone plucked a feather or more from an angel's wing, is there any kind of... well...negative effect that person would have as a result? Not that I'd do something like that, mind you. I'm just curious...for... intellectual reasons.

[ Or maybe because Hattie plucked a feather from Flonne's wing and then caught a cold so Ella kinda wonders if it's connected. ]